The Life of Lillia Carva: Chestnut's Day
by Brian Conley
Summary: Tasked with an unusual delivery, young Lillia must contend with everything that the world puts between her and completion! The first in a new series, please read, review and most importantly: enjoy! Thank you and I love you all!


At an hour precisely after Lillia had seated, Mazzi entered the establishment with a sheriff's stride, pushing aside the saloon-style doors with both hands and hovering near the entrance to case the joint. Lillia looked at her twice, once in a glance simply to see who'd entered and again to watch as the young Miqo'te remotely scanned each patron until she came to Lillia herself. Lillia gave her a smile and got one in return as Mazzi started towards her table. Mazzi was a short lady, with shoulder-length hair the color of faded fireplace embers and she kept it in a neat tail across her shoulders. Her skin was smooth caramel and her eyes were a stern, deep-water blue. A trio of silver earrings hung from her left ear and to compliment them, a gold locket around her neck. She was in her Twin Adder standard issue, a sand-colored coatee and brown trousers, with dark boots to complete the fantastically boring uniform. Lillia acknowledged her approache, but didn't pause her busywork.

"Miss Carva." Mazzi said, standing at-ease before Lillia.

"Miss Yhera." Lillia returned, "How fare you this fine morn?"

"Pleasant." Mazzi said, "Yourself?"

Lillia finished scraping clean her pipe. She thumbed a knuckle of tobacco into it and looked up at her friend, smiling, "Better already."

"It's a bad habit." Mazzi said, "Expensive, too."

"Same could probably be said about being a soldier." Lillia bit the pipe between her teeth and fumbled through her pockets for a tiny fire shard, "What's new?"

"Delivery for you." Mazzi said. She took a small envelope from her breast pocket and laid it professionally on the table. She slid it towards Lillia with her fingertips. Lillia lit up pleasantly.

"Already?" She said, "Things _are _better." She squeezed the fire shard to life and deposited it neatly into the hollow of her corn-cob pipe. Smoke began to plume and she took it in, releasing it from her nose like steam from a train. Mazzi rolled her eyes. She found a nearby chair and sat, pulling herself close to the table, her hands on her knees.

"You should have come and seen me when you got in." She said, "We could have had dinner."

"Yeah, sorry." Lillia said, "It was real late and by the time I finished with the client and putting my name in with the Adders, I figured you were probably asleep. I was going to catch up with you this afternoon, drop by to talk to Val if you weren't around." She took the envelope and opened it, "But it all worked out."

"What brings you around?" Mazzi asked.

"Delivery. Special parcel to Geva. Took the overnight express to try and squeeze an expediency bonus out of her."

Mazzi laughed, "Good luck with _that_."

"A game I cannot win." Lillia said. She read the letter and scrunched her brow. She looked up to Mazzi, sharing the concern.

"What?" Mazzi asked.

"This is official, right?" Lillia waved the letter, "Real Adder Jack-work?"

"Of course. I watched it processed not even two hours ago. Request came in last night, I think. Why? What's wrong?"

Lillia put the request letter face-up on the table. Mazzi leaned to read it. The handwriting was off-kilter and drawn with what looked like charcoal. It wrote at an angle, like whoever had done it wasn't too sure on how paper worked and it went from corner-to-corner, rather then top to bottom.

_Paid for __chestnut. _

_ 1__0__00__00__ gil _

_ Bot Guild said ready _

_ Need delivered to this one by 'morrow _

_ Payment on delivery _

_ thank_

Mazzi and Lillia looked at one another, then both leaned back in their chairs. Lillia crossed her arms and puffed thoughtfully. Mazzi rubbed her chin. At the bottom of the letter, neatly pressed parallel to the straight end, was a yellow, wax seal. Mazzi pointed at it.

"This is high-profile." She said.

"Yes, and?" Lillia asked.

"I know you don't like pressure."

"It's true." Lillia said, "I don't."

"But...?" Mazzi tilted her head in anticipation.

"I kind of need the money." Lillia said. She shut her eyes, "Things ain't going so swell financially."

"Didn't you just finish a job?"

"Expenses took the coeurl's share. Other things took most of the rest." She shrugged, returning the letter to its envelope, "Such is the life of the wanderer."

"Such is." Mazzi said, "I commend you for it." She thought for a moment, then said, "You know, if you focused your skills more with a Company, you wouldn't be in such straits all the time."

"You mean, if I chain myself to the land I shan't starve? Trees live for centuries, my friend, but never see more then the land around them."

"Butterflies see the ocean." Mazzi said, "But die young, despite being free and beautiful."

"Oh, you." Lillia said. She moved her head, flipping her hair, "You flatter me."

Mazzi laughed and stood. She pushed her chair in, "If you ever change your mind..."

"I know exactly where to find you." Lillia said, "Dinner tonight?"

"Dusk. I'll let Val know, she'll be excited."

"See you then." Lillia said and the two parted ways.

Lillia partook in a light inn breakfast, then returned to her room. She emptied her ruck onto the bed and sorted through her clothes, picking out a a sleeveless undershirt and short-shorts to keep her skin comfortable under the dark goatskin jacket and brais. It kept her knees exposed, but in this heat, she would sacrifice that protection to keep that much cooler. The jacket wasn't that heavy anyway, black leather cured hard over tough cloth. A few strips of leather hung from the hem of it to further protect her hips. The suit was worn to her body, fitted-form after so many years of wear. The leather was silent as it moved, still tough, but casual.

She looked herself over in the mirror, keeping a rag on hand to polish away anything unsightly on her armor. Her sunflower hair was short and kept out of her eyes with a purple bandanna. Her skin was somewhat tanned, but yet pale, save for her naturally rosy cheeks. Various pocks and scars speckled her arms, hands and legs. The mirror she was in wasn't anything more then six feet and Lillia stood half a head smaller then it. She kept strong eye contact with herself as she rubbed across her chest and shoulders.

"Bot Guild." She said, pursing her lips, "Can't even finish the word?"

She pulled into tall, leather boots, sheathed a dagger at her waist and hung her bow across her chest, quiver on her back. Her ruck's strap made an X with the bowstring. It only had it in now her fishing pole, a few lures, her pipe and the last bit of her tobacco. She double checked everything and on her way out, added a few of the inn's complimentary faerie apples to her supplies.

She settled accounts with the innkeeper on her way, parting with a small cut of her remaining gil to ensure another comfortable night's sleep. After that, she started towards the Botany Guild. The mid-morning sun was warm and cut nicely by the trees. Their shadows floated like clouds across the ground and through the air various flower pedals blew. The city was building a head of steam, noisy with the bustle of warehouse workers and chocobo patrols cruising the roads. The Aetheryte hummed quietly as Lillia passed and and stuck her tongue out at it. Some people just couldn't handle using Aetheryte transportation and Lillia was one of them.

So she walked. The trek through the city at a half-leisurely pace took the better part of an hour and she got to the Botanists' Guild just as the heat of the sun was truly starting to settle. Inside the only open building a couple of Lalafell were arranging flowers on display and a Hyur man was carousing the selection on the opposite side of the small room. A silver-haired Miqo'te tended behind the counter, flipping casually through the pages of a book. She looked up as Lillia approached and smiled.

"How can I help you?" She asked. Lillia presented her the request letter. The Miqo'te recognized it at once and held up a finger before ducking into the back room. She returned with a round cloth in her hands. She handed the tiny spindle to Lillia, who received it with cupped hands.

"I honestly didn't think _anybody _would take that job." The Miqo'te said, "Good for you for helping out the small folk."

"What is it?" Lillia asked. She carefully undid the twist in the cloth. It peeled back and revealed a shiny, smooth chestnut. A beautiful chestnut. _Gorgeous_. Lillia's eyes went wide at the sight of it and she wondered how such a simple little could invoke such a swell of emotion. The surface was perfectly smooth, like it had been sanded and lacquered. The top half curved up into an elegant, needle-fine point and the bottom was level-flat. The top half of the nut was a creamy chocolate brown, the bottom almost glowed with a near-gold sheen. It sparkled in Lillia's eyes like a wishing star.

"Beautiful, huh?" The Miqo'te said proudly, "It's the product of about seven years' growth. Our trees have been cultivated and bred together again and again in a kind of battle royale, until only that specimen remained. It is perhaps the most beautiful chestnut our forests have ever seen."

"It's amazing." Lillia said, "This truly is a hundred-thousand gil item."

_ "_Truly." The Miqo'te said, "It's going to Little Solace."

"Figured as much." Lillia shook her head, "How do Sylphs get that much gil, anyway?"

The Miqo'te shrugged, "Beats me. A few of them came in a while back and put in the order. They didn't say how we'd get it to them, but now I know. You."

"Wonder why they couldn't just come back and get it." Lillia asked.

"Dangerous. It's coeurl season. I bet you anything the Nine Ivies are crawling with 'em now."

"Great." Lillia said. She laughed. She put the chestnut and its cloth into her ruck's strap pocket, making sure it was clipped shut. She thanked the attendant and was on her way. She walked with a brisk purpose, anxiety starting to pull at the base of her spine, nervous at carrying such a valuable thing. She focused herself, making fists and drawing a quick map in her head. She could take the boat from the Old town to the East Shroud and then hike the length of it to Little Solace, though that long a travel would keep increasing the chances of something going sour.

She found and approached Gridania's central Aetheryte like it was a bully she had to confront. It droned on quietly, spinning its rings and emanating a gentle light, even in the morning sun. She breathed out her nose, huffy little snorts of defiance. She hated Aetheryte travel. Really, she did. When she was a kid, she would often be made to do it when helping her father deliver invoices and messages to the local Ul'dah businesses and over the years, the constant ethereal manipulation started to twist at her. Now it made her ill to do it and she dreaded even imagining the sensation. She stepped close to its surface, pressing her teeth together.

"Are you going, or what?"

Behind her, a tall Roegadyn man stood with his arms crossed. He was in a long white robe and had a silver band across his forehead. He looked at her impatiently, peering through all the hair on his face like he was looking through a bush. It was a deep brown and curled as tight as a knit cap.

"Others are waiting, you see." He explained. Behind him, there was nobody. Lillia gave him a meek little grin and turned back to the crystal.

"Sorry." She said and sucked in a breath. She imagined the Hawthorne Hut, pushing it foremost above the nervousness and reached out to touch the pulsing Aetheryte. Something shoved at the small of her back and she went forward, pressing her chest and cheeks against the stone. The Aetheryte lit up around her and in the seconds before leaving, she turned to see the furry smile of the Roegadyn behind her.

The trip sucked, like always. The force of ethereal travel took a grip of her stomach and turned it like a doorknob, pulling and pushing to try and open her up and spill the contents. The blue tunnel around her twisted and turned, pulsed in and out like it was breathing and and she traveled it like she imagined a rodent would a snake. The light intensified at the end and with a hard yell, she tumbled from the aether and hit the ground on both knees. Pain shot through her legs and she wretched, heaving hard enough to make her chest sore. She kept on all fours for a bit, working her body back to a somewhat comfortable state. She nursed smooth air into her lungs, pushed nausea down and talked herself back to a clear mind. She cursed that Roegadyn, shooting swears into the ground.

"You see that, _dad_." She said, "That's why I don't _do that_."

She got to her knees and when then started to hurt, she pulled herself to her rear, sitting with her legs out in front of her. The skin across her knees was bright red with white scrapes clawed across them. There wasn't any blood, but the pain didn't care. She touched them gingerly and and winced.

Her eyes shot open. In a quick panic she dug at her ruck, relived to find that the chestnut was still in one beautiful piece. She returned it to the pocket and with a grunt, stood up. She didn't recognize where she was, now that her head was back in the game. The lush of the Shroud spread around her and she was in a large clearing, She turned in a circle and again was relieved when she saw the towering Aetheryte of the Hawthorne Hut in the distance. She used it as compass, turning and twisting some more to orient herself, visualizing all the maps she'd pored over in her youth. She wagered she was a good thirty yalms east from the hut, and while that wasn't exact, it was enough to make her confident that if she followed the north paths, she'd find Little Solace in no time.

"Minor setback." She said, "Don't let it worry you."

She turned again and coming her way was a pack of wild coeurl. Big, muscular animals with extended claws and bared fangs, running fast enough to kick up a storm behind them. Their nasty tendrils flew alongside them like kites. The lead animal roared, terrifyingly angry. Lillia yelled in a panic of both fear and surprise. She fought her bow into her hands, whipping an arrow into the knock and spreading her feet. She drew back and just as the arrow flew, she saw the Wood Wailers that were giving chase to the pride.

Her arrow cut the air with practiced precision. It went from the end of the string straight to the left flank of the lead coeurl. The creature roared and doubled its pace. Lillia kicked back, sliding across the dirt into a kneel and drew another arrow, clenching her teeth as she readied the shot. Two Wailers leapt and brought down just as many beasts. The remaining three came at Lillia with terrifying speed and they clashed. The lead coeurl leapt, casting his shadow across her. She yelled, moving to retreat but stumbling. The coeurl's claws raked across her chest. The strap to her ruck split and the bag flew from the force. Lillia's arrow loosed and with no distance to cover, pierced the coeurl's eye as though it were a lance. It roared a final, dying cry and the weight of it came down. Lillia rolled and the claws caught her arm, pulling through the leather and shredding the cloth, hitting the skin below. She yelped at the sudden burst of pain and rolled to safety.

The Wailers appeared in seconds, leaping to finish the remaining creatures. Lillia heard their scuffle. Her vision blurred and her limbs became tired, as though she'd just finished swimming a marathon. The pain from her wound shouted in the background, present, but trying to be heard. She blinked slowly. She smacked her lips, swallowed away the last of her saliva. She panicked when she remembered her chestnut and fought against the weight, pushing so hard that she coughed all the air from her lungs and earned only a half-foot of lift from her arms. A Wailer was at her side in seconds, coaxing her back to the ground and turning her onto her side.

"Miss." He said, his voice deep with authority, "Please, stay still while I administer the vaccine."

Lillia slurred a wet blob of words, shutting her eyes to keep from getting dizzy. Something pricked her upper arm and she fell unconscious. She didn't dream, but felt the length of the sleep, like sliding through a black tunnel. When she woke up on the other side she was lying on a flat litter. Bandages wrapped her arm and her body still felt lazy, slowly emptying itself of the heavy gas from before. She could move and did so, moving slowly to her feet. No sooner was she upright then a Wailer was at her side, keeping her balance with hands on her shoulders. She looked at him wearily, eyes half-open.

He was a younger man, perhaps a few years beneath Lillia. Elezen, with copper skin and hair like autumn leaves. His dark eyes turned with concern. His Wailer mask was pulled up over his forehead and Lillia found herself making eye contact with it as he looked her up and down.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Dizzy." Lillia answered honestly, "Kind of heavy."

"Yes, that's the poison." The man said. He waved a hand and guided Lillia to a nearby stump, where he sat her down and knelt to look into her eyes. She returned the gaze, dreamily staring through him as he examined her.

"Am I okay?" She asked.

"You will be." The man said, "Coeurl poison. You got it through the claws, which is a pretty small dose. The worst of it are the cuts themselves, which I'm sure you'll start to feel once the tranquility of the venom wears off. You're lucky. If one of the tendrils had gotten you, I don't think we'd be talking right now."

"Lucky me." Lillia said. Her head swam. She shook at it, trying to settle the pieces back together. She got enough to start thinking straight, "Coeurl season, huh?"

"Indeed." The man settled back on his heels, arms resting on his knees, "Miss, why were you in the quarantined area? Fifty yalms around Hawthorne, I'm sure you must have heard it from the Adders in the Old town."

"I didn't." Lillia said. She shut her eyes and remembered. She got in last night, woke up this morning, bathed, dressed, chatted with Mazzi, got her work order, had breakfast then headed out. There was no announcement in that chain, though she did recall Mazzi mentioning coeurls when they'd talked. She swallowed a few times. Some little thought told her otherwise, that something had mentioned them, but she couldn't get there.

"I took the Aetheryte." She said, "Got bumped wrong."

"I see." The man said, "That's unfortunate."

"One in a thousand occurrence, just had to happen to me." Lillia smiled weakly. She swallowed again, trying her damnedest to wet her mouth. Nothing was happening and it just hurt more and more to swallow. The man frowned and stood. Lillia pat at her chest, looking to pop the small canteen from the strap of her ruck, but only hit leather. She did it a few times before sudden realization washed over her and she leapt to her feet. Her body moaned with discomfort, but she ignored it as she started looking around.

"What? What?" The man asked, returning to her side, carrying a small canteen of water.

"My bag." Lillia said, "Where's my bag?"

"Take it easy." The Wailer said. He took her shoulders again and turned her back to the stump. He handed her the canteen and she drank thankfully. He pointed to a nearby stream, where Lillia saw her rucksack sitting on the shore. In the few dozen fulms between here and it, a crowd of Wood Wailers were collecting coeurl bodies into a big pile and preparing firewood around it. There were at least ten of the yellow creatures and their sharp, precision wounds bled neatly. The tendrils oozed a dark liquid that stained the grass. Lillia made a disgusted expression. She took in a deep breath and let it go, ducking free of the Wailer's grip and making slow progress towards her bag. A few of the working Wailers gave her wary glaces as she crossed through them.

The ruck's strap was split in the center, just beneath the little pocket where she'd kept the chestnut. The bag itself sat on the edge of the stream, just over a tiny drop. One of the broken ends of the strap hung like fishing line into the water and Lillia reeled it in anxiously. The pocket was open, empty. She flung the bag in a fury and dropped to her hands and knees, leaning over the water, eyes darting in a panic.

"Did you lose something?" The Wailer asked, approaching. He leaned over with her, adjusting his mask over his forehead.

"My chestnut." Lillia said, "I lost my chestnut."

The Wailer made a worried noise, "Perhaps you should lie back down." He said. Lillia scoffed, turning to him. She showed him a cupped hand.

"No, it's an actual chestnut! Wrapped in cloth, I'm delivering it to the Sylph from the Bot Guild."

The Wailer squat back on his heels again. He rubbed at his chin, watching as Lillia leaned further and further over the creek, twisting and turning to look down both lengths of it.

"You're a Jack, then?" He asked.

"Duh." Lillia said.

"Haven't seen too many of you lately."

"Guess there hasn't been much work for us." Lillia sat up on her knees, "I just got in last night anyway."

"Adders take care of most of the piddly stuff nowadays." The Wailer said, "Jack-work ain't too popular."

Lillia turned to him, "Yes, yes. That's why I was happy to get the job I did." She stood. She pushed her ruck aside with a foot and stepped into the creek proper, "And now I have to find the stupid thing so I don't lose it."

The Wailer stood and put a hand over his eyes. He squinted downstream. Lillia had started to splash her way in that direction, moving carefully to canvas the entirety of the water's bed.

"Is that it?" He asked, pointing. Lillia looked at him then followed. Downstream a bit, stuck in a gnarl of roots was a wet little bundle of cloth. Lillia gasped sharply and hurried to it, neverminding how cold the water was on her legs when she knelt to pick it up. She unfolded it in her hands and thanked the presiding deity that the chestnut was still inside. It was a bit wet, but no worse for wear. It still looked wonderful. The Wailer whistled as he looked at it over Lillia's shoulder and she smiled at him.

"Right?" She said.

"Never knew I could be so attracted to a chestnut." The Wailer said. There was a sharp whistle, first long then in bursts of three. The Wailer snapped to attention and turned on his heel.

"Good luck." He said, "We're on the move."

"Thank you for your help." Lillia said. She stood up and stuck out a hand. The Wailer shook it.

"Malamont." He said.

"Lillia." They smiled at each other and the whistle sang again. Malamont pulled his mask over his eyes and shrugged.

"Duty calls." He says, "Take care."

"You too."

Lillia watched him leap to shore and hurriedly jog away. Once out of sight, she took in a pleased breath and started back towards her ruck. Her limbs felt tired and her whole body dragged. She rolled her shoulder, her wounds yawning with pain. The claws hadn't pierced the leather through-and-through, but had dug deep, enough to bruise. The cloth shirt between the leather was shredded and the skin underneath, now wrapped in clean, white bandages, had been affected. Lillia had never been afflicted with coeurl poison before, though she had heard stories, with their horror levels ranging from a day's sleep to dying from asphyxiation as your lungs imploded. She took solace in how minor her wound was, grateful further that the Wailers had been around. She put the Roegadyn's face in her head and cast it in iron. _Someday_, she thought.

She got to her ruck and sat on her knees next to it. The grass was sunny-soft, felt nice on her scraps. She lay the chestnut next to her and examined her bag. The strap had been bisected and the bag now had arms. She tried tying the two ends together, but the knot was so uncomfortable and the length so short that it was quickly decided against. She instead used a length of her fishing line to bind the two ends, poked through with a hook and tying it off with three tight knots. It took her a good half-hour to work it right, making sure it was secured neatly and pulled strongly enough. She lost herself in the work and was proud of the result as she again wore it. Satisfied, she turned to gather up the chestnut.

Standing not even two feet from her was a goblin. Her eyes met his, little beady black orbs in a tanned leather mask. A red cut went down across the left eye, burnt brightly into the leather. He was as tall as Lillia on her knees. His ears were short, stubby little things that flipped around. A spade shovel stuck out from his backpack. Tin canteens clattered around as they hung from the pockets. The two of them stared at each other for a long while. Lillia looked down, going from his eyes to his feet and when she came back up, noticed a little bundle of cloth in his left hand. Her body seized up. She wiggled her fingers, turned her toes into the ground.

The goblin started in a run seconds before Lillia took after him. She bounded, coming up with a grab and missed by a half-foot. He was fast, moving his little legs at a tremendous speed. She cursed loudly and gave chase, pausing only to locate and grab her bow and quiver. The goblin ran south, well away from both Hawthorne and Little Solace. Lillia all but cried in frustration. A little gnat of thought started to fly around her ear, telling her how lovely a pipe could be right now, sitting on the sunny side of a Gridanian river while eating some kabobs. She imagined it like it was a dream and almost faltered to it.

The goblin pushed through some brush and Lillia kept chase, drawing her dagger and cutting away what she couldn't shoulder through. They ran aside a tall rock wall for some while, then out through a stretch of forest. A few grazing stags looked up at her as she ran by then returned to their meal, uninterested. Her body had started to shed it laze and her legs, about free of the poison, began to holler at her. Stop, they said, we hurt. _Stop_.

"Shut up." Lillia hissed. She could barely see the goblin as he weaved through the trees. Only the sunlight off his canteens gave him away. He pulled a big U through a group of rocks and Lillia skid to a stop, twisting on her heels to try and regain sight of him. She did, just as he vanished into another tall thicket. She let out a yell and chased, cutting through the growth with angry, tired swipes.

As she pushed through a rock careened through the air and missed her head by mere inches. She yelled in surprise and dropped to a shooter's kneel, bow in her hands and arrow loosed. It soared through the air and cut across the shoulder of the goblin. It threw its hands up in shock and they both watched in horror as the chestnut flew out of his grip. The area they had chased into was a little clearing surrounded by thick growth and tall trees. The ground was flat and the sun poured in like it was filling a cup. In the center of the clearing was a wide pond. The water sparkled and rippled as fish bobbed around under it. Wildflowers grew along its shore. Leaves floated casually with colorful pedals on the surface. The chestnut took flight over the pond and both Lillia and goblin watched with panicked expressions as a wonderfully silver fish broke the surface of the water and with prismatic rainbows chasing its tail, swallowed the chestnut. It re-entered without a splash. The chestnut's cloth spread limply over the surface of the water.

Lillia sat stunned for a bit while the gnat suggested again how wonderful a smoke and kabob would be. She looked up at the goblin and it took a fearful step backwards. Lillia flew to her feet and drew another arrow, fueled by a sudden burst of rage. She fired and missed, hitting the space where the goblin had been. He took off into the far side of the clearing, pushing away into the brush. Lillia stood alone now in the place, looking at the pond. Peering in, it looked like it went down pretty deep and that was probably the source, though she doubted the fish in it had gotten here that way. It looked like a breeding pond, much like she'd seen when working with her father.

Still.

There were a lot of fish in this pond. She huffed and turned it into soft grumbles. She did a few laps around the water, coming to a stop at a risen gnarl of dirt and roots. She sat on it and leaned her head into her hands. Her body muddled about, legs sore, her cuts beginning to bore free of the poison's subdue and her head fuzzy. What time was it now? She looked up at the sky. Nearly noon. She took off her rucksack and bow, laying the latter at her feet and sorting through the former. She took out her pipe and spent a few quiet moments cleaning and loading it. Once bit, she started the search for a fire shard. She found none on her person or in her bag. A flash of frustrated rage boiled over her and it was all she could do to avoid tossing her bag into the pond.

She kept the pipe between her teeth and went on adjusting the fishing pole she'd brought. It was a telescopic model, sold by La Nosceans to common folk who found hobby in the craft, rather then profession. Fully extended, she used practiced, nimble movement to rig and bait the hook. A silver spoon lure sparkled in the midday light and became a shooting star as it was cast. Like this, the next few hours began. The routine started first as catch and release, but as Lillia's head started her clear further, she realized that throwing fish back only refilled the pool of fish she had to work through. Even marking them wouldn't do any good, simply because she had no control over which fish took bait. So she began laying them out on the ground next to her, one at a time in as orderly a flopping line as she could. Some of the fish found their way back to the water and some accepted their fate, allowing the outside world to dry their lives.

"At least I'll eat well." She muttered. Of course, she didn't have any fire shards, so even that wasn't going to happen, unless she hauled all these fish back. She slouched further, lowering her rod far below her knees. Her back slumped, her head drooped. She thought of the Sylphs, fluttering around Little Solace impatiently, wondering where that dreadful human was that was supposed to bring them their chestnut. Their damn chestnut.

"Didn't even know stupid Sylph liked stupid chestnuts." She muttered again. She puffed at her pipe, but nothing passed through. The faint taste of old tobacco padded her tongue, taunting her.

"Most wood creatures find them very precious."

The voice came suddenly, sharply. Lillia spun to her feet, dropping her rod and drawing her dagger. Another goblin stood a few fulms from her seat. Its mask was shiny-smooth, its eyes more attentive then the red-scarred one. Its tanned goblin suit had black stripes around the trim and had a tube-shaped pouch on the back of its waist. One stubby little arm was held neatly behind its back and the other rested on the head of a carved walking stick. A pretty little stone hung from its left ear. Lillia narrowed her gaze on the creature, sliding her feet to a stable stance. The goblin looked her up and down, then held up a wary hand.

"Please, take heart." He said, "I've come with no ill will." It spoke efficiently, calmly. It had a pleasant accent, almost like the Sultana's, but deeper. Its voice was muffled by its mask, yet still surprisingly affluent.

"Truly?" Lillia said. She strung her nervousness tightly around her arms.

"Truly." The goblin nodded, "My kind is aft for mischief and occasional violence towards non-goblin folk, but I must assure you that I find no common ground with such behavior. I come in peace."

Lillia swallowed hard. The goblin looked at her pile of fish and then at the pond.

"I see you've partook in our breeding pond." It said, "Thievery, then?"

"No." Lillia said, "I'm searching for a chestnut. A fish swallowed it."

"Understandable. We feed our fish nutritional pellets, which are similar to chestnuts in shape and size. They've become quite trained when feeding time comes around." It stroked its chin, "Shame we have to devour them. I wage we could find quite the profit in showcasing such talents."

He looked again at Lillia, and shook his head, "Though I digress. I must ask: how did your chestnut end up in our little, secluded breeding pond?"

"It was stolen from me." Lillia said, "By a goblin. Then I gave chase and we had a tussle and in the end, the chestnut ended up in the water."

The goblin snorted a laugh, "That is _quite _the comedy of errors."

"Sure doesn't seem that funny to me."

"I suppose not." The goblin moved his head in such a way to convey a smile, "Do you have plans for this little trove of fish, I wonder?"

"Eat them." Lillia answered honestly.

"All of them? A waif woman like yourself? I hardly think you able to eat more then two of such hearty creature."

"I'll save them?" Lillia said. She shut her eyes, shook her head.

"Was that a question?"

She let out a long, tired sigh and sat back down, sheathing her dagger.

"You take them." She said, "They belong to your people anyway. I just want my chestnut, is all."

"I understand." The goblin said, "Miss, do you have a name?"

"Lillia."

"Pretty. I am Haughtox Stuffanail."

"Nice to meet you." Lillia said.

"The pleasure is all mine." Haughtox said back.

There was a sudden scurry of footsteps and both Haughtox and Lillia looked to see the red-scarred goblin come to a stop across the pond. The three made eye contact, a paused moment of silence.

"That's the thief." Lillia said. Haughtox nodded.

"I would have expected nobody else, really."

"Troublemaker?"

Haughtox turned his chin, as if rolling his eyes, "You have _no _idea."

The red-scarred goblin twisted to reach into his backpack's bulging pockets. He withdrew a stony, round object. It was granite colored and fit as neatly into his palm as an apple would Lillia's. A length of stiff wire coiled from the top and only as red-scar pressed a large fire shard against it did Lillia realize what it was. The fuse came to life then after a three-count, red-scar tossed the bomb underhand into the pond. It entered without a splash. Haughtox sighed, taking a step back. Lillia shut her eyes and did the same.

"Damn." Haughtox said, "The council shan't be too pleased with this."

The explosion was tremendous. The pond lifted up from the bowl like a reverse waterfall. Lillia was soaked instantly, pelted with fish and stones. Various bits of scum and greenery stuck to her. The sound rolled around the clearing and took off into the sky, scaring away flocks of nearby birds as it escaped. The ground shook from both the noise and force. Lillia remained standing throughout it, pestered by the better angels of her mind. Told-you-sos about how wonderful quitting would have been and now such relaxation was a mere pipe dream. In that moment of high impact, as he ears rang and her body soaked, she wanted nothing more then to let herself be carried away in the cannon of water fired upon her.

When the chaos subsided, a silence swooped in and settled, strengthened by the excitement prior and stiff from tension in the little clearing. Lillia palmed her eyes clear and shot daggers at red-scar across the pond, which was nothing more now then a pit trap. Fish flapped around on the ground already starting to smell in the sun. Red-scar looked around, wiggling his fingers. Lillia looked down at the ground, back to red-scar, then back to the ground. She took a sharp breath and started the race. She threw herself to her knees, grabbing at fish and prying open their mouths, turning them over like they were coin purses. Red-scar did the same. Both gave each other weary looks, making sure the other hadn't reached the finish line. Haughtox sat himself on Lillia's earthen seat, laying his staff across his lap as he watched.

It didn't take long for either competitor to exhaust their supply of nearby fish. There were only a few dozen on either side of the pond and some of them had been nearly vaporized, enough so to see whether they housed the chestnut with a glance. Lillia scurried around, throwing fish backwards as they were checked. She came to a head near the top of the pond. Her hands were sticky and smelly and she was sweating. Her legs had turned from sore to sharp and while her head was now clear, it throbbed in worked excitement. Her cuts hurt too, though were the least of her concerns.

A single fish lay near the base of a tree at the edge of the clearing. Both Lillia and red-scar saw it, traded glances and made their move. Lillia tripped once, staggering over herself and turning it into a furious crawl. She slapped her palm across the fish just as red-scar did. Red-scar took the tail, Lillia the searched each other's eyes and pulled. The fish separated at the center like a new-year's popper, spreading guts and water across the ground. In the mess, _of course_, the chestnut fell. It was shiny from its environment, but still smooth and wonderful to behold. Red-scar grabbed at it and Lillia smacked his hands away. She took the nut with two fingers and a thrill of relief ran through her. It turned at once to anger as red-scar slapped the bottom of her hand to send the thing skyward. She yelled in fury and went to stand, arms extended. Red-scar grabbed the breast of her leather armor and yanked, lifting one of his pointed feet and slamming his heel into her shoulder. The pain sang a single note and she fell to her hands as red-scar flipped up onto her back.

Lillia had none of it. She grabbed the goblin's legs and threw him to the ground. He hit with a wet _whump, _throwing around his arms and legs in pained frustration. Lillia flew upright, lifting her hand and catching the chestnut as it descended. Another rush of relief came through her as she palmed the thing. She let out a long breath and looked triumphantly down at red-scar. He was lying on his back like a turtle, legs up and hands working around another rounded object. Lillia's expression sank. Red-scar cocked his head smugly.

Lillia pulled her leg back and in the seconds before detonation, kicked the bomb from its hands. It reached for it like a baby would a lost ball. Together, they watched it curve through the air and tumble into the forest nearby. Then it was quiet. It was only a second or two but Lillia thought of her family, of her younger siblings and parents. She thought of Mazzi and Val and wondered what dinner would have been with them. She shook her head ruefully, saddened that she was going to perish at the whims of a _damn chestnut_. At the end she cursed the Roegadyn that had started this chain of unfortunate events and yet still swore revenge.

The explosion was a brutal god reborn. Without water to contain the worst of it, the force threw Lillia off her feet. Debris rained across her, dirt, sticks, rocks and grass. Bits of fish again hit her skin. The sound filled the clearing and escaped through the trees, scaring away countless birds who no doubt were angry at again being chased away. Lillia's ears rang, replacing any other noise with the harsh tin whistle of her eardrums assaulted. She started coughing. The air was smokey, acrid with both the fish and sulfuric residue of detonation. She wanted to cry.

Pain shot down her arm. A heavy, angry pain. She peeled open her eyes and moaned her neck to see red-scar stepping on her outstretched wrist. He ground his heel into it and Lillia shouted in agony. Nothing broke, but the pain didn't know that. Her hand opened out of instinct. Red-scar leaned, grabbed the chestnut and flew off across the clearing, skittering away into the woods. Lillia lay still for a long while, letting out tears with pitiful, angry cries. She hurt all over now. The coeurl's poison perhaps a thing of the past or maybe just lost the heavy cloud of pain. Her knees were sore, her legs heavy. Her hands were sticky and fishy and now her wrist was a red alarm of anguish. Her head throbbed. A new headache had replaced the old, helped by the sound in her ears.

It began to fade only as she started to drift away.

This time, she did dream. She came to in her living room, sitting across from her younger brother, both of them in tall-backed, softly upholstered chairs. A fireplace was lit between them and Lillia stared at it, wondering when her family had gotten it installed. She was wearing a soft white shirt and shorts that were equally as pleasant. Her feet were bare and hair long across her shoulders. Her brother was sitting cross-legged in a similar outfit, though his shorts went past his knees.

"Len." Lillia said. He nodded.

"Lil."

"What am I doing here?"

"Dreaming."

Lillia looked down at her hands, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Where's Lyu? Or Mom or Dad?"

"Not here." Len shook his head, "Just you and me."

"Did you bring me here?" Lillia asked. Len laughed.

"Don't be stupid. You think I'm actually me? I'm just you pretending."

"I see."

Len slid out of the chair, stomping his feet. He was a few heads shorter then Lillia, crowned with a tussle of yellow hair a few shades brighter then her own and tough with boyhood cuts and scrapes over his sun-tanned skin. He crossed the bridge and slapped his palms into Lillia's. They were warm. She squeezed them lovingly.

"You're having a tough time of it." He said.

"I know."

"Just take it easy, sis. You'll get through it. Control yourself, your temper. It'll be fine."

"Now I know I'm dreaming." Lillia said, "When you start helping my confidence."

Len shrugged, "I worry sometimes."

Lillia smiled and drew him into a hug. Even if it was just a dream, being able to glean affection from her kid brother was really nice. She cuddled her chin into his shoulder and let out a long sigh.

"I'll send you some Gridanian sweetbread." She said. He smiled.

"I'd like that." He told her and the dream faded away.

Lillia woke to a unpleasant cloud of anguish settling across her body. Her legs were sore, her arms stung from both exertion and wounds, and a general pain drove around the length of her. Her head was clear, though still pounded. She pulled her eyes open, exhaling loudly. She was lying on a soft mound of covered hay. A fuzzy blanket was pulled over her and a very stuffed pillow stuck beneath her head. The ceiling was thatched and the walls sealed stone. The door was a thick sheet of leather. Dim outside light came in through the cracks. Lillia could smell firewood burning and meat being cooked. She could hear the din of activity, shuffling feet and muffled voices.

"Thank the twelve." She said, pressing her teeth together and pulling herself up. Her bones creaked and if her body had been a sentient being, it would have been scolding her for moving at all. Her feet hit her bag as she put them on the ground. Next to it was her bow, quiver and all. She checked through the ruck, testing her patch on the strap and making sure all was in order. The whole thing was damp and smelled like fish and sulfur. It was a bit heavier because of it. She put it on slowly and crossed it with her bow. She stretched her legs and made for the door. She expected to see Wailers on the other side, maybe the residences of Hawthorne. After all, there, _were _two fairly large explosions in the Shroud—that was the kind of thing the Wailers jumped all over (no pun intended).

On the other side of the leather door were goblins. Lots of them. It was a bonafide village. A large bonfire snapped and popped in the center, a few fulms from Lillia and huddles of goblins sat around it. Smaller, admittedly adorable, goblins ran around them, tossing balls and throwing stones. Huts and lean-tos made a tight circle around the fire and behind them was thick forest. It was dusk. The sky had started to turn faded shades of purple and the light of the fire and torches made the place feel like an evening summer festival. As Lillia stepped out of her hut, every goblin in the place turned to look at her. If there had been any music, it would have stopped. Even the small goblins stopped their games to stare. Lillia's throat went dry. Survival instincts kicked up dust around her and she started to plot the best way to fight free of the would-be mob. She tensed her arms. It boiled to just below breaking when a familiar voice called her name. She turned to it.

Coming from the hut north of the fire was Haughtox. He hobbled along on his cane, waving at Lillia. She relaxed some, still holding the tension in her arms but loosing it in her back. She turned to him. He spoke first.

"Feeling better?" He asked. Lillia nodded. "Good, good." He said.

"How long was I asleep?" She asked.

"A good length of it, I'd say. The better of the afternoon." Haughtox got close and paused. He turned to the goblins around them and waved his cane crossly, "Yes!" he yelled, "It is a Hyur, you've _all _seen them before and today is no different. She shan't be here for long so you all can just get back to what you were doing. This isn't a show."

A few seconds more passed and the village returned to its bustle. A few of the bonfire goblins turned quick glances at her every now and then, but she seemed to be otherwise ignored.

"Everything is something with this group." Haughtox said, "So. I'd wager you want to return to your home?"

Lillia almost said yes. The word got the very edge of her tongue and hung there, harpooned only by the responsibility her better side stuck in it. She swallowed, hard. She thought of the Sylphs and of her own well-being. She thought of how long the day had been. She remembered her dream and with it, took in a long, hard breath. She held it at the top, waiting until her lungs burned. She shot her eyes open and looked at Haughtox.

"I need my chestnut." She said. Haughtox lowered his head.

"I thought you'd say that."

"Where is it?" Lillia asked.

"The council took it when Ragrox was jailed."

"That's the red-scarred goblin?" Lillia asked. Haughtox nodded.

"The Elder Council had him imprisoned as soon as they heard what he'd done. He effectively terminated one of our chief breeding ponds and used high-explosives without permit. Serious crimes."

"Justice is all fine and good." Lillia said, "But I'd like it to give my chestnut back."

"Well...there's the wicket..." Haughtox said. He looked at the ground, "You'd have to talk to the council about _that_. We have...protocols, you see."

"Of course." Lillia said. She waved her arm, "Lead the way."

"Are you...sure?" Haughtox said, "You could leave now, sight unseen. I personally would guide you back to your city. You'd be there by full dark."

Lillia shook her head. She ignored fully the voice of comfortable doubt.

"I won't have gone through a day like this without reward." She said, sternly. She heard herself and it sounded like her father talking when he got upset, "Lead me to the council, I shall _avail _myself upon them to reclaim my chestnut."

Haughtox nodded solemnly, "Very well, then."

He waved for her to follow and she did. They walked south of the bonfire, sticking close to the edge of the village. They tucked through two larger huts, taking a winding path that trailed through some dense woods and past another two little villages much like the one they just left. They were pockets of light in the darkening, thick woods. Lillia kept her senses sharp, or as sharp as they could be, always making sure to watch Haughtox and to keep the trail both before and behind her. She imagined walking around this place in full-night would be like walking on the ocean floor. With ten minutes of hurried walking behind them, they approached a row of heavy willow trees. Their low-hanging branches made an opaque curtain of them. There was a break in the row, a tree gone unplanted and the branches made a door in it. Haughtox stopped before it, holding up a hand to Lillia.

"Wait here for a moment." He said, "The council is still convening over Ragrox's actions. Allow me to find an opening for you in the proceedings."

Lillia nodded. Haughtox slipped through the branches. Lillia adjusted the shoulders of her armor, rubbed tenderly at her knees and elbows. She counted her arrows and took in a deep breath. Muffled voices came from beyond the veil. A nasally, angry tone overtook the rest. Leaning close, Lillia could start to make out words. She shut her eyes as she listened.

"Ragrox hurt food supply." It said, "He betrayed contract between us and city-folk! This isn't first time he did the wrong thing, too. Jail maybe too light for such a gob. I say we exile him to the Gift! Let the boar and bugs have him."

"Don't be hasty." A deeper voice said, "He _is _still one of us."

"He harms us all!" The nasally voice shot back. There was a quick, sudden silence and the next voice heard was Haughtox.

"The Hyur woman has come to seek what has been stolen." He said. There was a quiet chittering, mumbled whispers and hushed tones.

"No time!" Nasally said, "Tell her our rules and lead her away. We already gave too much niceness by letting her rest here."

"You don't think it unfair?" Haughtox said, "The item Ragrox stole is of varied importance to not only her, but the little folk up north."

This must have struck interest in Nasally. A thoughtful silence carried about. Haughtox came back through the veil, touching Lillia's leg and making her jump. She swallowed back a yelp, slapping her thighs. Haughtox tilted his head at her.

"Come." He said.

Lillia followed him through the veil, ducking to avoid the stiffer upper branches. The council sat on twelve seats in a horseshoe set a dozen or so fulms from the entrance. A tall-cut tree stump served as the head position and from it were flattened mounds of dirt, all with thick, colorful moss padding their bases and tall torches stuck up behind up. An oblong pool of water was the centerpiece and various colors of fish swam about in it. A goblin sat at each place, legs crossed, arms folded. They all had black-trimmed outfits and masks, much like Haughtox. Twenty-four beady, intense eyes trained to Lillia as she entered. The pressure mounted at once. She made fists, kept her heels close as she walked. Following Haughtox, she approached the council.

"Hyur." The head goblin said. His voice was the deeper one, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes." Lillia said, "Thank you."

"Hospitality is our way of apology. We understand what Ragrox did and he is being judged for it."

"Then you know what he took." Lillia said. Deep-voice nodded.

"But we have rules!" Nasally said. It was the goblin two seats left of deep-voice and he waved his hands as he talked, "The thing isn't hers anymore. By city-folk and gobby rules it belongs to gob!"

"It is true." Deep-voice said.

"Unfair." Lillia said, "By all rights it belongs to the Sylph, not you, I or even city-folk! I'm simply a delivery person."

Deep-voice took in a long breath. He looked at the ground in thought.

"Understandable that what was taken is for the little folk, but it was taken and brought to Gob territory. As irrational as they may be to your kind, gobby rules state that all taken and brought here becomes gob property. We have deals with city-folk along those lines."

"Rules that whatever you steal, you keep? I doubt the Adders would sign such a thing."

"They _have_." Nasally said.

"They have." Haughtox said, "It is a compromise between states, really. It, in effect, means that either side can pursue ownership of the other side's possessions, so long as the item is taken by physical means."

"Both sides can steal from each other, just as long as it's done in person?" Lillia asked. Haughtox nodded.

"It's just a deterrence treaty, then." She said. Haughtox shrugged.

"We gobs have stepped out of our way enough to make that such treaty possible." Deep-voice said, "It is where our dealings with outside politics begins and ends."

"It's still unfair." Lillia said.

"It is what it is." Deep-voice said back. A flash of anger lit up under Lillia and burned through her like a passing flame. It rolled her fists and turned her knuckles white-hot. She narrowed her eyes and in a brief instant of unreasonable fury, planned her attack. Fly her bow out, shoot deep-voice then nasally and finish the job with her dagger in each and every stupid goblin's neck that-

"What of a trade, then?" Haughtox said, breaking through her dreams of anger. She looked down at him as he addressed the council. He put his hand on her leg in a soothing effort. The council stewed on it. The goblin seated two to the right of deep-voice spoke up.

"What have it, then?" He asked.

"I haven't much." Lillia said. She slouched her shoulders. This is what her day had come to. She wasn't sure what was left in her ruck, not after a coeurl attack, a forest run and then two explosions, one of which involved water. She flipped the bag around to her front and sort through it. The inside was wet still and smelled faintly of fish. She took stock and looked hopefully up to deep-voice.

"I can trade a spinner lure, three faerie apples and a knuckle of tobacco, Ul'dah make."

She swallowed. She was reminded of the lotteries her grade school used to hold for who would take the chocobo chick home for the weekends. A knot pulled itself tightly across her midsection. Haughtox tilted his head, seemingly curious, as though the whole thing was the climatic moment in a play. Deep-voice rubbed at his chin, looking at his cohorts.

"_Three _faerie apples?" Nasally said. Lillia nodded.

"They would please the elders." Deep-voice said, "And the tobacco might do well in barter with the Qiqirn." His contemplation came to a head and he nodded, seeming to smile with the motion, "Yes, Hyur, I do think that will be acceptable."

"Then the spinner for safe passage to the little ones." Lillia continued, "You would know a faster route then I."

Deep-voice gave the second demand only a moment's thought, "Yes, yes. Agreed. Haughtox?"

"Of course." Haughtox said.

Deep-voice pressed his palm to his mouth whistled loudly. It drew two medium-sized goblins from the space behind the horseshoe. He said nothing to them, simply pointed at Lillia then thumbed over his shoulder. One of the goblins hurried away and returned with cupped hands. The other held out his arms to Lillia and she loaded the apples, tobacco and spinner into them. The fruit had a few bruises about them, but no discoloration. He nodded sharply to her and hurried off. The other goblin opened his hands to Lillia and inside was her chestnut. In the torchlit dusk, it still shone. The surface was still smooth, only one scratch along the golden base. The point was perhaps a bit shorter, but it was still an example in miraculous survival. She pressed it to her chest with both hands, promising that it would only be let go to the little folks.

"Thank you." She said. Deep-voice nodded.

"Be it the end of our business." He titled his head politely.

She bid farewell to the council, who seemed now indifferent on whether or not she was around, and followed Haughtox. Outside the council space, they turned sharply from the villages and pushed through a thick tussle of vines, heeding forest and stream until they came to a narrow footpath. Lillia walked with her hands over her heart, feeling it beat and warming her precious cargo like it was an egg.

"I wonder if I should count myself lucky." She said.

"I might, if I were you." Haughtox said back, "Rare that any creature outside beast-tribe meet the council on such amicable terms. Let alone make such easy trade with them, though..."

"Though?"

"I think Ragrox's actions towards your well-being may have played a part in their decision." Haughtox rubbed his chin, "Then again...the elders _do _love faerie apples."

"I'm surprised they were treated with such value."

"They don't grow in the Shroud." Haughtox explained, "They come from the snowy places."

"I see." Lillia said, "What will happen to Ragrox? Will he be exiled?"

Haughtox made a long, thoughtful hum, "Likely, though I doubt it will be for more then a moon or two. Gobs abide by gobs and true banishment is hard to justify." He looked back at Lillia, "At least now you know where he shall be, if vengeance be on your mind."

Lillia shook her head, "Let him rot. If we meet again, we'll settle it fairly."

"Human empathy." Haughtox said, "Such a bizarre thing."

"Human exhaustion, more like." Lillia said, and they laughed.

They walked in quiet for some time after, coming out the wooded path just at the start of full-dark. Lillia looked skyward and saw the sapphire glow of Hawthorne's Aetheryte some yalms away. She turned in a circle on her heels, quickly ascertaining her location. Little Solace loomed just ahead, torches lit and various sylph fluttering around. A curving wave of relief washed over her and for maybe the first time that day, she relaxed fully. She looked down at Haughtox.

"Thank you." She said, "You really helped me today."

"Of course." He said, "Tis' my job." If his mouth had been visible, Lillia was sure it would have been in a smile.

"Ah." He held up a quick finger. He turned and went into his small backpack. From it he took a well-sized fish. It flickered silver in the dim light. Haughtox dangled it from a hooked line. It had been scaled and small cuts shown that it was prepared for consumption. He offered it to Lillia.

"It was one of the ones you caught." He said. Lillia smiled and took it.

"I do hope this whole experience hasn't soured you on goblin-kind." He said.

"It probably would have if I hadn't met you." Lilla said back. She reached out and shook his hand.

"Take care, then." Haughtox said. They both waved and he slipped back into the wood. Lillia watched him go, put away her fish and strode confidently to Little Solace.

After announcing herself, she was brought to one of the overseer sylph, up on the closest tower. He was fluttering around a few others and near passed out from physical relief when he saw Lillia. He hurried to her, pale green wings moving faster as he did. His almond-shaped eyes went wide and he all but clawed the chestnut from her hands. She handed it to him politely and he looked it over like a jeweler would a diamond. He made a small sound, probably at the scratch, but came back to Lillia with a pleased expression.

"This one is happy." He said, "These ones were worrying that you wouldn't show, or that we'd been swindled by your bot guild."

"Yeah, sorry." Lillia said, rubbing the back of her neck, "It's been a long day."

"Fine, fine. So long as it is here. The celebration is tomorrow, you see."

Lillia started to ask what the celebration was for and how the chestnut played a part, but decided against it. Nothing more to even tempt trouble, thank you and if the item was to be destroyed or devoured in any way, she didn't want to know. The sylph flew away for a moment and returned with a round, silk pouch. It was pulled closed with a gold string and was of considerable weight. He handed it to Lillia with a smile.

"Thank you, ma'am. You've done these ones a great fortune."

Lillia nodded her head and said her thank yous and farewells. She left Little Solace feeling so uplifted that the pain in her body sat backseat. She went straight to Hawthorne Hut, speeding her walk across the Ivies and keeping her bow at the ready. Once there, she sat on a pile of logs near the Aetheryte and opened the pouch she was given. There was a glitter of gil, at least five-thousand in coins and she squealed happily.

"Job well done." She said.

She braved the Aetheryte, coming back to the Gridanian plaza in a lousy tumble. She hovered over the nearby stream, retching about the water until her stomach found its place again. She much preferred her sore legs, aching shoulders and pounding head to the violent nausea that Aetheryte travel caused. Then again, such sickness was worth, at least in this occasion, returning to the city in good time. She laid a line around town, going to the Adder's first. She signed off on a job done and again put her name in for more work whenever it would crop up. She also paid a few coins to use their linkshell, to call to her family's home. Her sister answered.

"Lyu!" Lillia said at the sound of her voice, "It's Lillia."

"I know who it is." Lyu said, "Are you okay?"

"_Peachy_." Lillia said, "Listen, I can't talk for long-"

"Did you make it to Gridania?"

"Yes. Listen, I-"

"You should have checked in earlier. Dad's all worried about you."

"Tell him I'm fine. Lyn, listen. Don't interrupt again!"

"Okay?"

"I'm kinda in a hurry right now. Is Len around?"

"Um..." There was a bustle, "Yep, hold on. Take care, Lil."

"You too, kiddo."

Silence for a beat, then Len picked up.

"Lil?"

"Len, I can't talk long, but I want to say thank you. Your sweetbread is on its way."

She could almost hear his brows raise, "Okay? You're welcome?"

"Tell dad I'll call tomorrow. Love you guys!"

She hung up. From the Adders, her line continued to a nearby peddler, where she bought said sweetbread. Then to the inn, where the delivery moogle was entrusted with it. Lastly, she went to her room, where she took a quick, thorough bath and changed into casual clothes. She applied salves and bandages where they need be and swallowed some medicinal root, all of which took grip of her various discomforts and nearly ejected them from her person. She pat around for her pipe and lament its vanishing. Tomorrow, she thought, she would find a new one. She took the things she needed, slipped into her soft leather shoes and headed out.

The night was warm, relaxed. The sky was clear and the city soothed like a sleepy child. Distant chocobos kweh'd from their stables and water ran pleasantly around the creases. Lillia didn't take her time, but enjoyed the night. Her spirits had been refilled, re-energized. Warm wind blew through her hair and across her cheeks. She drank it in, holding her lungs full until they hurt. Compared to mid-afternoon, she was a different world of Lillia. It was one of those new landmarks in her life, a new low to draw upon for perhaps future motivation.

Val was sitting outside, cross-legged on a wooden bench. She was looking wistfully up at the sky, holding her feet with her hands. She was a young Miqo'te, just in her teens, with dark hair and silver eyes. Her face was youthful still, her birthmarks still darkening. She was in a white shirt and shorts much shorter then Lillia would ever feel comfortable wearing. As Lillia approached the little cottage house, Val looked down to her. She smiled, shaking her head and getting to her feet.

"_Finally_." She said, crossing the small yard and opening the gate, "We though you'd be a no-show!"

"Almost." Lillia said. Val turned over her shoulder and shouted for her sister. Mazzi appeared at the door in second, dressed in simple trousers and a dark shirt. She looked relieved, shaking her head much like Val.

"Almost called the Adders." She said. She looked Lillia up and down.

"What happened to you?" Val asked. Lillia smiled.

"It's been a long day." She held up her fish, "But I brought fish!" Val made an excited noise and took it, hurrying around Mazzi to get inside. Mazzi gave Lillia another once-over and beckoned her in.

"Sounds like you've got quite a story." She said. Lillia followed her through the house and found a seat at the dining room table. There was a spread of covered dishes and fresh kabobs. Fruit was cut length-wise and piled in a bowl. All the glasses were filled with an orange-colored juice. The comfort of the meal drained into Lillia. The warmth of the house and the concern of her friends wrapped around her like a blanket. She pulled it tight, through her and into the corners of her heart. She shut her eyes and let the moment rescue her weary mind. When she opened them, both Mazzi and Val were seated, looking to her with anticipation. Lillia took a kabob and piled some rice onto her plate. She smiled widely as she began to eat.

"Well." She said, "It all started with a chestnut..."


End file.
